


Into Her Eyes

by thestarwhowishes



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-05-18 16:40:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19338454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestarwhowishes/pseuds/thestarwhowishes
Summary: She slipped through the crowd packed around the main pit, trying not to look to the exposed rooms on either side—to the girls and women who weren’t fortunate enough to be sold into an upper-class brothel like Lysandra. Sometimes, when Celaena was feeling particularly inclined to make herself miserable, she’d wonder if their fate would have been hers had Arobynn not taken her in. She’d wonder if she’d gaze into their eyes and see some version of herself staring back.So it was easier not to look.|○|An AU where Aelin was found by Ben and ended up being a courtesan.





	1. Chapter 1

The girl gasped for air.

It had never burned as much. Everything was on fire—her lungs, her limbs. But she was so, so utterly cold. Frozen.

She opened an eye. Tall trees, bright sunshine and clear skies met her. Where was she? What was this place? Her head was too heavy to do any sort of assessment.

 _Assessment_ , that was some word right there. Aedion might not even know it.

If he was alive.

Because… everyone was dead.

The rays of sun filtering through the leaves became a blurred mess as tears filled her eyes. Everyone was dead.

She remembered it, then. The night before. Marion… she was dead, too. Had known what was going to happen when she asked her to tell Elide she loved her very, very much.

 _Sacrifice_. That's the word that clanged through her head when she witnessed the death of her nursemaid. When she saw the same red of blood that coated her parentsʼ bed.

She sat up, head pounding and tears streaming down her face.

 _Everyone was dead_.

Everyone but her. She didn't want to consider how much that would last. She stood. Her knees were shaking, and she felt light-headed. She hadn't eaten that much yesterday. She needed to find food, even if hunger was a foreign concept. Her stomach felt leaden just thinking… thinking. Remembering.

Her hand went to the amulet hanging from her neck. Her mother had said—she said it would keep her protected and safe. That it would lead her home, always. But she didn't feel protected or safe, at all. And she wasn't sure she wanted to go back home if her family… if they were gone.

No.

Marion had bought her time so she could go back. She _would_ go back.

A shiver ran down her body as frozen breeze blew past her and her sodden clothes and hair. She needed to find food, and shelter. Only she had no idea where to get either of those things. Or how.

She found herself wishing Aedion was here. He would know what to do, what to tell her to keep her nerves from fraying.

Only then, she realized how truly big this world was and how alone she had become. Tears threatened to start falling again, but she put her arms around herself and repeated in her head that Marion's sacrifice wasn't in vain.

So she walked into the forest.

* * *

 

It was a miserable mile-long walk into Oakwald. Each step was a torture.

Not only her dress was too stuffy to be in the woods, it seemed like it would never _dry_. Her teeth were clacking and her tiny arms could only do so much against the cold.

She cursed, perhaps for the first time. For not being able to summon a miserable flame, if only to keep her warm. But that would be dangerous. The fire inside her never seemed to listen, and if she asked it to warm her, it might end up burning the trees around her.

And if someone was looking for her, someone other than Aedion, Quinn or Lord Lochan, it would be a ringing bell.

And she couldn't do it, anyway. Perhaps if she had been able to, she could have saved Marion. Both of them could have run together. But she hadn't been able to, and Marion was dead.

Her tears, at least, were hot on her face.

* * *

 

If morning and midday cold were bad, she knew, there was not a chance of her making it through the night. Not with her still damp dress. Not without shelter. Not without a fire—magically made or otherwise.

It was unacceptable. Not that she would die, but that Marion had, and it had amounted to nothing.

That was what filled her with enough stubbornness that she kept walking. In hopes that perhaps, she would find a cave in which to wait the night. Or for help to come.

But as the sun sank on the horizon, she had a nagging feeling that she would find none. That help would not come. That, as unacceptable as that was, it was what would happen.

She wasnʼt going to make it.

A sob made its way out of her lips, so loud and jarring in the silent forest. Even the animals had been silent all day, like they understood what sort of loss she felt. As if they mourned with her.

Mourning. She knew what that word meant since she read it in one of her books. But the weight of it wasn't like anything a book could describe, the complete nothingness in her chest. There wasn't a word big enough to describe it.

She leaned on a nearby tree as the realization kept on hitting and hitting again. As the weight of these deaths crushed her.

And she wept. She wept because she was cold, and alone, and scared, and lost. She wept because she failed Marion, because she would never tell Elide that her mother loved her very much. She wept because she was going to die.

So she curled on herself against the skeletal tree, sliding her arms around herself and did not get up.


	2. Chapter 2

Aelin woke up to the sound of wood cracking and popping. A chimney.

She opened her eyes and realized that this was not the forest, that she wasn't freezing anymore and that she didn't know where she was.

She was in a big bed, under thick blankets. The room was spacious, enough to have a small sitting area and a big desk with papers here and there. And beside it—weapons. She stared at them.

Her heartbeat stopped and resumed with a maddening speed.

Aelin thought of Aedion. With his obsession with blades and knives, and the eternal mess on his desk. A small sound of relief left her lips before she could stop it.

Aelin threw the blankets off her and pretty much jumped out of bed. She only stopped long enough to notice her dress was gone, and she was tucked in a shirt instead—a man's shirt. It almost covered her knees.

Maybe… maybe they didn't have clothes in hand for her. Wherever this was.

She wrapped her arms around her, feeling self-conscious all of the sudden. Faintly, she felt the Amulet of Orynth still hanging from her neck.

_ This will lead you home. _

Her eyes burned. But she shook her head and headed for the door, thinking of Aedion and how much she needed to hug him.

But as she reached the doorknob, it moved. And the door opened. The man on the other side wasn't Aedion, or Quinn, or Lord Lochan. He wasn't a guard.

He was a stranger.

She stepped back as fast as she could without stumbling.

The man seemed surprised that she was awake. But recovered soon. He held his hands in front of him, trying to look as harmless as a man as huge as him could.

She didn't buy it. She saw the way he stood—the same way the palace guards did after years of training. And his hands were calloused enough that he had to be familiar with weapons.

The ones beside the desk, were they his? Was this his room?

“Who are you,” she demanded.

It didn't come out as she intended to, her voice raspy and breathy.

She kept walking backwards, putting as much distance between them as possible.

He didn't take another step in. His eyes remained on her and every move she made. “My name is Ben. I found in the forest, so I brought you here,” he explained softly, soothingly.

She didn't believe him. And said as much.

“I know,” he replied. “I know you don't and that's really, really smart of you. But you are safe here, I promise.”

She reached the desk at the other side of the room. “Bullshit.”

A corner of his lips twitched. “What a foul mouth you have, girl.”

“Where am I.”

Ben lowered his hands. She tensed. “This is my house. Me and my friend's house, actually.”

“Where.”

“Three miles from the river.” He gave her a complicit smile. “It seems you went swimming, huh? I would rather do it in Spring or Summer, but whatever suits you.”

Her breathing hitched. “How long have I been here.”

He took a step closer. “Only one day.”

“Back off,” she half-growled, half-hissed. Even if her voice was tinged with hysteria.

Ben stopped. “I'm not going to hurt you.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“Why would I hurt you?”

Aelin opened her mouth, but words didn't come out.  _ Why would he hurt her? _ Didn't he know who she was? If he were smart, or cruel, or both, he would hand her over. Sell her. She was…

He didn't know, did he?

Or he was playing dumb to make her lower her guard. But… he was a warrior of sorts, he could surely take her by force, if he really wanted to.

She got so caught in between her whirling thoughts that she almost didn't notice him taking a couple more steps.

She hissed. “I said back off!”

“I'm not going to hurt you,” Ben repeated. But this time he didn't stop. “You don't have to be afraid.”

She picked a small blade and pointed him with it. Her hand shook, but she didn't let go of it.

Ben halted, surprise flaring again in his eyes. His brows rose. But he was more amused than afraid. And who would be afraid of her? She was only a half-feral child. If anything, he should be worried that she was going to cut herself.

But he sighed. “Very well, I won't get closer. But I do need my weapons.”

“Find others somewhere,” she simply said.

Ben snorted. “You are fiery, girl, I'll give you that. But this is my room, and I need my stuff.”

“Let me go, then.”

Something flickered in his eyes. “You can't.”

She lifted her chin. “I can and I will.”

Ben rubbed his face with one hand. She could've cried out in outrage—she had a knife!—but stayed silence, watching him.

“There are soldiers marching up to Orynth as we speak, if you go out there, chances are that you get caught up in their path. No girl should—”

“I know what they do to little girls,” she interrupted.

But her heartbeat was out of control again and the floor was slipping away.

“Soldiers?” she whispered as words sunk in.

She lowered her hand.

Ben's eyes turned sympathetic, pitiful. He nodded once, slowly.

There were soldiers making their way to Orynth, an army. And in the chaos after the deaths of the royal family, it would be easy to break in and finish it off.

It wasn't going to be a war, it would be slaughter.

She had to go back.

She realized that she didn't care if he was a threat, she would get out of there and  _ go _ back. And if he tried to stop her, she would bite his head off.

“I'm leaving.”

She made to walk for the door, giving Ben wide berth, but the man easily stepped in front of her. “No, you aren't.”

She halted but did not step back. “Move.”

“What are you going to do? You don't even have proper clothes and the only thing you are armed with is a knife.”

She leveled him a glare, as intimidating as her small height allowed her, and gripped the front of her—his shirt harder. “That's none of your business.”

She had to go back.

“You will die,” he stated calmly.

“What does it matter to you?”

“You're just a child.”

She wanted to scream. There were many words swirling in her mind, but she found herself without the ability to speak them. Because… he was right. She was only a child and she would die.

Aelin was no warrior. She couldnʼt even control herself. She wasn't strong like Aedion, she wasn't powerful like her mother, or smart like her father, or brave like Marion.

She wasn't much of anything.

Only a scared, useless princess.

_ Queen,  _ a traitorous voice whispered in her ear. She was going to be a queen.

Oh, gods.

Gods.

She couldn't get air in. It was like falling in the frozen river all over. The current was too strong for her weak arms to pull her to the surface again. She was drowning.

“I have to go back,” she whispered. But even she knew there was no real determination in her voice.

“No.”

Aelin peered up at him, and found his eyes staring at her with softness. He had brown eyes. The kind that looked black from a distance.

Marion had them too, and Elide.

_ Tell my Elide I love her very much. _

Aelin fell to her knees and vomited.

* * *

 

She didn't care anymore. If Ben was pretending to be kind only to reveal his true colors later. She didn't care if he did bad things to her. She deserved them.

After puking her guts, she only wiped her mouth with a sleeve and told the man to leave her alone. He stared at her for a moment, but did as she asked. Of course, he picked up his weapons first—some he strapped on himself.

She wanted to ask why he needed them, but didn't say anything. She only watched him leave in silence. And when she was alone, she sat in front of the fire.

And cried.

* * *

 

A servant entered the room with a tray of food, a second one behind her holding what seemed to be a bundle of clothes.

She was about to yell at them to get out. She had never done so before. But the women only left the food and clothes on the tea table and walked out without so much a glance her way.

Alone again, she watched the dying fire until it was nothing but ash.

* * *

 

Ben didn't bother her, nor did the servants.

It was fully dark outside.

She had eventually poked at the food, eating as much as the knots in her stomach allowed it. Then took a look at the clothes, and realized they were her size—or something close to it. Also, they were for a boy. But she wasn't about to complain. At least they were finely made.

Not that it mattered.

Clothes didn't matter when there was war out there, and she was in here. Hiding like a coward.

She didn't want to think about that, she did want to think about much, if anything at all.

The afternoon had been quiet, save for the little animals outside. Horses and birds mostly. Ben had to be wealthy, then. More than his easy demeanor suggested. But why purchase a house in the middle of nowhere. The closest village was a day away, at least.

Perhaps for this very same reason, to avoid trouble. No one would bother them here. If they never left, they could all pretend war wasn't happening, that many people wouldn't die soon.

Had the army reached Orynth already? Or would the Lords get more time to raise an army of their own? She didn't know much about war, but she knew armies needed time to raise and that Adarlan was big and rich enough to have the numbers.

Because it was Adarlan who was attacking, right?

She realized with a little sound of dismay that she had no idea what was going on. Tears pickled in her eyes. The least she could do was to ask, but no, she only hid in Ben's room all day. Like a coward.

The word had been present at the front of her mind all day.  _ Coward.  _ That was what she was. It sometimes was a whisper—sometimes it was so loud she covered her ears as if that would keep the word from ringing inside her head.  _ Coward. _

She paced, thinking that maybe she could outrun her own thoughts. But as the day wore on, she grew more and more agitated. Her magic was growing restless. She tried to shove it down, to control it like her tutors had taught her. But the fire was just below the surface and it would not be long before it flared.

She needed to get out. Now.

She opened the door. The hallway was darkened and silent. The wooden floor was cold beneath her feet. But she braved it. She walked until she found the stairs.

She heard voices, then. Hushed and secretive, saying things she shouldn't eavesdrop. Her mother had always scolded her for her uncanny ability of being exactly where she should to hear gossips and schemes no kid should. It had always been mindless court tittering, but still.

And yet, she didn't move and didn't make her presence known. She should. Instead, she shifted and the words became as loud as if they were speaking in front of her. Her pointed ears, at least, were covered by her loose hair.

“Has your pet deigned to leave her room?” a cool voice said—male.

“I don't keep pets,” the other man replied with a soft sneer—Ben. “She is a guest, and you will treat her as such.”

There was a tense silence, and she sensed their bodies shifting, like… like they were going to fight. She realized then, to her infinite dismay, that they were talking about her.

“Very well,” the first man said, though there was laughter in his voice. “But is she going to have dinner with us, like a proper guest?”

“Why do you care so much, Arobynn?”

The other man—Arobynn huffed a laugh. “Because this is my home, and you never bring anyone, let alone a child.”

“She was dying.” The words were short, crippled. “I couldn't leave her out there.”

There was silence then. The kind of silence before a true fight broke. She had presence it too many times with her cousin and Ren. But this wasn't like that.

“I'll ask her if she wants to join us, but she's a scared little girl and we are two really big men. Don't push it.”

And that was that. Feet walked away, almost too softly for her to hear. The other one stayed where he was and let out a sigh. Exhausted. Ben, then.

He began to walk, getting close to her.

She ran like hell back to her room, on silent feet. She flinched a little at how loud the click of the door was. She prayed that her ears only picked the sound because of the heightened senses. Could only hope, and then made a run for the bathroom door.

She shifted back into her human form.

The light flared at the same time the knock came. She didn't answer, too busy controlling her breaths. If they knew what she was… Ben might not be as kind. Or the other man, Arobynn. He hadn't sounded kind at all.

What kind of people were they even? Ben said he wouldn't hurt her, but that didn't imply the other man—or any other wouldn't. And she'd be a fool if she believed him that easily. 

She was a fool for staying in the first place.

Ben knocked again.

She walked out of the bathroom. “What do you want?” she barked.

“May I come in?” he asked in the softest voice he could muster.

“No.”

There was a soft thud on the door. And something that sounded like a groan, but her ears didn't quite catch it.

“Okay, but you know that you'll have to come out eventually, right? You are in  _ my _ room.”

So he'd said.

“I don't care.”

Ben sighed. “Dinner will be served in a few minutes, of you wish to come down.”

“I wish to leave.”

“You can always take a walk around, you know? You are not a prisoner.”

Well, she certainly felt like it. But she didn't deing to respond, or utter another word. Ben waited a few seconds, then left.

She dropped her shoulders and loosed a breath. Maybe she had a death wish, if she couldn't shut her big mouth. Yes, Ben was unbelievable kind and patient with her. But that still didn't change the fact that he was a stranger and that she should know better than to try to provoke him. Even if she couldn't help but snap at him.

She should be smarter than this.

But as she climbed into his bed, she didn't feel like being smart anymore.

* * *

 

_ The forest was watching her. Glittering eyes in the dark stared at every step she made, waiting for her to fall. But she kept running. _

_ Each gasp for air was like shards of glass shoving down her throat, slicing her chest open from the inside out. Her hammering heart was like a drum, buikding higher and higher. _

_ She ran like she never had before. And it wasn't enough, not to outrun the screams of the dying. Not enough to scape death again. _

_ The horse's pounding hooves were getting closer. And the fear seized her so hard she tripped. The ground was so muddy she couldn't put her feet under her and start running once more. _

_ She didn't get the chance as a sword was drawn and as she whirled her face. The sword swung. She screamed— _

* * *

She was still screaming when she opened her eyes, when she couldn't differentiate the muddy earth from the oppressing sheets.

She trashed and kicked the covers. She couldnʼt get out, she couldnʼt break free. She was going to die. Oh, gods. Gods.

Breathe, she had to breathed. She… She couldn't. She was choking.

_ Breathe. _

She told herself there wasn't any danger. She reminded herself that she was not in the forest. There was no assassin waiting for her to fall. Even if that did little to slow her pounding heart, or the trembling of her hands as she untangled herself from the covers.

She was still shaking when she got up on her feet and walked until she reached the window. Her hands fumbled trying to find the window shutter. A small and broken sound left her lips when the crisp night air kissed her tear-stained face.

A shiver spider-walked across her back and she trembled again. It wasn't about the cold.

She gripped the windowsill, hard, letting it ground her. The floor was not slipping away, no one was chasing her. She'd made it. She'd made it. She'd made it.

She chanted it quietly, in sorrowful whispers.

But tears came back flowing again and her throat felt infinitely tight, as if someone had closed their fist around her neck and didn't want to let go.

She leaned her forehead on the windowsill and let out sob that felt like it was cleaving her open.

She made it, but at what cost?

Behind her eyelids, she could see Marion's blood spraying the kitchen. Again and again. Could hear the sound of her head against the table. The knife in her slim hand.

It seemed like a joke against her assassin.

She wanted to scream. She wanted her parents to hold her. But they were dead, too. And she'd never feel their arms around her. And she was alone. And this world was too big and she too small.

She slid to the floor and hid her face between her knees.

* * *

 

Her eyes felt heavy upon awakening, swollen from the crying. And her back and legs were sore. But she was comfortable. And not on the floor where she recalled falling asleep on. 

She was in the bed. Ben's bed.

She glanced around. Her heart fell to her stomach when she saw the closet door open. A soft rustle of fabric, metal clicking against metal and then Ben was walking out.

He stopped when he saw her, eyes going wide and trying to crawl back, further on the bed. He took a deep breath.

“Listen, I need clothes.”

She didn't answer. Her eyes traveled to his hip, where a sword hung from his belt. Ben tracked the glance.

“I also needed this,” he said slowly, carefully.

“Why? You said  _ I  _ was safe. I thought that meant everyone was.”

Ben opened his mouth, and shut it. Laughed a little. “You remind me of a girl I knew, she made so many questions. Like you. I'm sure you two would've been fast friends. It's a shame she left Erilea, she would have liked you.”

“You didn't answer.”

“I don't really need this, but I am very attached to it. So I carry it with me almost everyday. Is that a good enough reason for you?” He lifted an eyebrow.

He was a liar.

“And all the weapons you took yesterday?”

“For the guards,” he said easily.

_ Liar _ .

“What guards?”

“The ones you can't see because you don't want to leave my room.”

Fine. She couldnʼt argue against that. She crossed her arms on her chest, then uncrossed them. She was no fighter but having her arms occupied didn't seem smart.

She gave Ben a glare.

The man only rubbed his eyebrows with his pointer and thumb. Took yet another deep breath.

“I need you to come with me—”

“Absolutely not.”

His eyes went blank. “To show you your room.”

“I don't want a room, I want to leave.”

He stayed silent for a moment. “Why did you sleep on the floor?”

“That's none of your business,” she gritted through her teeth.

“Okay, but I miss my bed and you don't even like it. So I suppose it makes no difference to you where you sleep.”

She hated that he was right and she didn't have a real answer to that. She looked away. Then focused on him again. Aedion would've throttle her for not being aware of her surroundings. But he wasn't here.

“Where would you go?” Ben asked softly, like he already knew she had nowhere to run back to.

She lowered her gaze to the mattress and tried to hold back the tears gathering in her eyes. She bit the inside of her cheek.

“I—girl, I didn't—”

“If I go with you, will you leave me  _ alone _ ?” she snapped.

She didn't want to cry in front of him, she didn't want to be vulnerable in front of a complete stranger. And the way he looked at her like she was something to pity—it was the same look the adults gave her when no one wanted to play with her.

It was easier to be angry.

Ben nodded. So she got out of his bed and waited for him to lead the way.

* * *

 

The room was at the other side of the house. Ben didn't talk to her on the way there, didn't look over his shoulders to where she was walking behind him. He only opened the door and gestured for her to walk inside.

It wasn't a big room. There was only a four-poster bed, a vanity and a closet  and two nightstands on either side of the bed. A door that had to lead to the bathroom and a window.

No books, no papers. Nothing. A guest room. 

Ben was still standing on the threshold, watching carefully.

“Well, I did it. I'm here. Leave.”

He huffed a laugh and reached for something inside his pocket.

“Here.” He extended a hand to her, palm open. A silver key glittered in the morning light.

She took one step forward, but hesitated in taking the second. She kept forgetting herself on being careful, for the god's sake. He  _ was _ a stranger.

Ben noticed and deflated a little. He seemed frustrated, and… sad. She furrowed her brows. The pity in his face.

She closed up the distance between them and snatched the key from his hand. Turned her back on him.

She was not someone to pity.

“No one will enter this room unless you allow them, kid. The other copy is in a drawer. This place is yours for now.”

“And if I lock myself out, hm?” she couldn't help but snap.

“Then you have to be extra careful unless you want to sleep in the stables.”

She started. Was he… teasing her?

When a second too long passed and she didn't say anything, he went on, “There is clothes for you in the closet, I sent someone to get it for you.”

“Why?” she murmured.

“Why not? You're a guest.”

“An unwilling guest,” she bit back and half turned to glare at him.

He sighed. “There is hot water in the bathroom.”

He went to leave.

“Wait.”

She was already regretting speaking, but Ben turned to her. “Yes?”

She swallowed. “Do you have—have you heard anything about Orynth?”

He opened his mouth and closed it. Considered the words and tasted them before speaking.

“Word came that Adarlan's soldiers should've reached Orynth last night.”

“Did they—”

“They said the King of Adarlan is willing to not… attack Terrasen, if they surrender.”

But they wouldn't, and even if they did… what then? She bit the inside of her cheek again, to keep tears from forming.

“You shouldn't be worrying about things like this, kid,” Ben offered kindly. As if his words could lift up the burden from her shoulders.

As if a room, and hot water, and clothes her size could make her forget everything she lost.

“Leave,” she said. She didn't recognize her own voice, but she didn't care.

Ben didn't make a sound when he closed the door and left her alone. Again.

* * *

 

She changed into a dark-blue dress. It wasn't anything fancy or specially beautiful. But it was heavy enough that if she closed her eyes, she could pretend it was her mother's hug or her father's steady presence. She could pretend everything was a bad dream and she'd be in Orynth when she opened her eyes again.

But she was still in this stupid room, tucked in this stupid dress, fighting her stupid,  _ useless  _ tears.

She didn't leave her bed for the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos! I really appreciate it.
> 
> I don't have a schedule and writing in English makes me slow. Sorry if it takes a lot of time to update.

**Author's Note:**

> Uhhh, this is my first fic in a long, long time. So bear with me. Also English is not my first language. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy💕


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